Prodigy
by MzHissyFits
Summary: By refusing a mission, Alex sends others in his place, now condemned to a life like his. Despite their grudges and rivalries, they'll all have to work together to save the world. T for language
1. Alive

Chapter One  
Alive 

Alex opened his eyes.

_ Where am I?_

He was in a four-poster bed and was wearing pinstriped pajamas underneath the thick blankets. The room looked sickeningly ornate with heavy velvet curtains hanging from the windows and thick blood red carpet.

"What happened?" he asked aloud. There was no answer.

Alex quickly got up. He saw a wardrobe and looked for anything familiar. There was a gray suit that would fit him, a brown and white Quicksilver sweatshirt, a few t-shirts, and two pairs of jeans hanging in the closet, but there was nothing of his own. He changed into a t-shirt and jeans and pulled the sweatshirt over his head. As he did, he noticed that his chest was bandaged up.

The door opened behind him. A woman entered – a nurse.

"Good morning, Mr. Rider," she said.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"You've been through quite an ordeal, Alex," the woman said. "It wouldn't surprise me if you're in shock."

"Just tell me what happened!" Alex's voice rose.

"You were shot."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I know _that_. What I want to know is how I ended up _here_ and where _here_ is."

"Attitude, young man. You were retrieved from the hospital and sent here," the nurse said. "And you are in Scotland."

Alex waited for a further explanation. When none came, he said, "But why send me here? Where in Scotland? When am I going home? Did you catch the person who shot me? What is MI6 planning to do about my absence? How much time have I a spent here?"

"So many questions," the nurse said sadly. "Questions are dangerous, Alex. As a spy, I would have guessed you knew that already."

"What?"

"Come. I'm not the right person to explain this to you," and with that she led him out of the room.

They entered what seemed to be an office at the end of the hall. There was a frail old man sitting behind the desk wearing a navy blue tie and light blue shirt underneath his lab coat and a man in his late thirties/early forties wearing a dark gray suit sitting in front of him. He had tussled dark brown hair that had shots of gray in it and he had wrinkles around his eyes. Without the gray and the wrinkles, he would look relatively young. But this man looked as if he had aged before his time came and his eyes held secrets in them to turn them dark. His face was serious, but at least his smile, which was very reserved to say the least, was friendly. He stood up as the nurse and Alex entered the room.

"Mr. Rider," he said, extending his hand. "It's an honor to meet the boy who saved the world."

Alex shook his hand slowly.

"My name is Jack Porter – I've replaced Alan Blunt as the head of MI6," the man said. "Oh, and this is Dr. Stevens," he said, pointing to the old man.

"How do you do?" the old man wheezed.

"I'm a little confused," Alex replied honestly.

"Ah," Jack Porter said. "Well, I'm here to rectify that, Mr. Rider. May I call you Alex?"

"Sure, why not?" Alex said shrugging.

"Have a seat, then Alex," Mr. Porter said, but he remained standing himself. He put his hands in his pockets and addressed him. "Oh, and in case you are wondering what happened to Alan Blunt, he was simply demoted to a lesser rank in our organization. He's simply a paper pusher for the time being. Well my boy, I'm sure you are wondering why you are here," Mr. Porter said.

"Wouldn't you?"

"Yes I would," Mr. Porter said nodding. "Well the fact is, Alex . . . I suppose that you're a big boy, you can handle this, so I'll just skip to the point – which is that Scorpia _does_ indeed want you dead – which is why they hired a man to shoot you down as you exited the . . . _bank_, as it were." Mr. Porter looked at him expecting him to say something.

Alex remained silent.

"Right then. You were actually _quite_ lucky that someone was there to help you out," Mr. Porter said. "Your guardian angel was quite capable, really, and was able to gun down your shooter, stop you from bleeding to death, and then disappear by the time people gathered around. The MI6 took it from there – transporting you to a hospital, then to here. They transported you here because it would look _very_ odd if you were sleeping on a hospital bed at the same time that you were being buried next to your uncle."

"What? So you mean - ?"

"Scorpia thinks you're dead. Well placed connections fed them a story that for a while, it looked as if you could have come out of critical condition but in the end you gave up the fight for your life and now friends all mourned your death. Which was half true. Except that you _did_ come out of critical condition, but of course we couldn't let them know that, now could we?"

"I suppose," Alex said. "So, what about everybody else? Did you tell Jack I'm here? What about the people from school?"

"We told all of them that you are still fighting for your life in a coma," Mr. Porter said. "Miss Starbright knows that this supposed coma comes from you being shot, but your teachers think it was because you had an accident on your bike. It wasn't so hard to believe for them because people are aware of some of those . . . thrills you had on your school trip to Venice. Interesting way to take down thieves, by the way. Bird seed and pigeons. Unlikely weapons of a hero, don't you think?"

Alex ignored the last few comments. "Whatever. When am I going home?"

"Oh . . . " Mr. Porter looked down at his watch and scratched his head. "In about three months."

"**_What?_**" Alex was incredulous.

"The people who run Scorpia aren't complete morons, Alex," Mr. Porter said. "They've already doubted that there's a body inside your grave. Luckily for us, we managed to get somebody from on our side to lie to them and tell them that there is. They had to fake some x-ray prints to do so. Fact is, Alex, that your school and your home are being watched. If their people saw you walking around, I'd bet good money that they'd figure stuff out. Consider yourself lucky that we didn't have to tell all your friends that you were dead. At least this way, you'll be able to resume your life after this all blows over."

Alex was speechless. He still didn't like the situation, but he didn't know how it could be better either.

"What am I to do in the meantime then?" Alex asked.

Dr. Stevens spoke this time. "We need to keep you hidden here, apparently. You will have a tutor, because you still need to keep you educated. Hopefully, you can go back to school with a head start instead of being behind. Keeping you here will have other benefits as well. We'll be able to monitor your recovery better and the MI6 will safe contact with you. You may be back at home even sooner than three months."

Mr. Porter nodded. "We'll keep in touch, Alex. We'll make sure that you get home A.S.A.P."

Alex looked at the two of them and nodded.

"That's all settled then," Mr. Porter said. "Any more questions?"

"Yeah," Alex said. "What _is_ this place?"

Mr. Porter looked at him. His face was unreadable. Then something that looked like sympathy appeared behind his eyes before it disappeared again. He smiled sadly at Alex. "Oh, this is just a place made especially for people like you. It's a safe haven . . . life put on pause for those who have seen their lives flash much too quickly before their eyes. I was here once, too, you know Alex. But I was not so lucky as you are now. You will have a life to return to. I had to begin all over again."

His face still held no emotion, but Alex could almost feel the sadness coming off of Mr. Porter. "Well," he said, taking his had and his coat off from the rack by the door of Dr. Stevens' office , "I'd best be off. Good luck, Alex, I'll keep in touch."

Dr. Stevens cleared his throat once Mr. Porter left. "Well, Mr. Rider, lunch should be served in about half an hour. It will be sent to your room. Your lessons will be taught in the library which is down the hall to your right from my office." He stopped.

"Anything else?" Alex asked.

"I suppose you hear this a lot," Dr. Stevens said, "But you do look terribly like Ian Rider. Your personality, however, is more like that of John Rider."

"You know my uncle? You know my dad?"

"You aren't the first Rider I've had visit me here," Dr. Stevens said. "Your uncle was the last to be here. He only stayed a few days. I suppose that makes you the fourth, and hopefully the final Rider."

"Fourth?" Alex asked as they exited the office.

"Excuse me?"

"You said fourth, but there are only three of us," Alex said.

"Only three?"

"My dad, my uncle, and me."

"Oh. Oh, yes, of course," Dr. Stevens said. "My mistake. Well, run along now. You might want to acquaint yourself with the place."

"Is there anyone here but me?" Alex asked.

"Yes – but I think that it would be wise that you keep to yourself. Our other guests, few of them as there are, have their own worries. They needn't be bothered."

Alex walked down the hall to his room and sighed at the thought of the next few weeks in this place. But in any case, he was grateful that he was alive.


	2. That's A No

Chapter Two  
That's A No

_One month later . . ._

"I think that's all for today, Alex," Mrs. Peters, a librarian like woman with hair more gray than it was a rusted copper brown, said closing her lesson books.

"_Wow_," Alex said. "It's seven o' clock Mrs. Peters! Record time!"

She ignored his tone. "We're finishing up early because Mr. Porter wants to talk to you."

"He wants to talk to me?"

"Yes."

"Himself?"

"Isn't he the _head_ of MI6? He has time to come here himself?"

"No. We live in the 21st century, Mr. Rider. We can use telephones, _and_ we can make sure that no one is eavesdropping." Mrs. Peters handed him a cell phone. It rang.

"Hello?"

"Alex! Nice to hear your voice again!"

"Hello, Mr. Porter."

"Hello to you to. I was wondering. It must be rather dull out there, with no one to talk to, right?"

"Sure."

"I mean, you can hardly play football by yourself can you? And there's no point in playing cricket -you can't even run around outside!"

"True," Alex said hesitantly, wondering where Mr. Porter was going with this.

"It can't be very interesting, I'm sure. Hardly any excitement."

"Mr. Porter, does this have a point?"

"Yes. Yes it does. I was wondering if you were up for a mission."

"Up for it? Health wise, or do you want a volunteer?"

"I'd prefer both. But let me outline it for you. Some . . . hostile enmities have captured one of our rather important engineers. He was building a little something for us that _they_ want – more importantly, that they want to build. We'll go into the particulars once . . . _if_ you accept the mission. The point is, they're after his kid. Nobody knows _anything_ about this child, no name, no age, no nothing. So if we can send _you_ in . . . you get another chance to save the world."

"I've already saved it at _least_ three times, Mr. Porter," Alex said.

"Well, that just proves you may be the best man for the job," Mr. Porter replied.

"Yes, but am I the _only_ man for the job?"

"Technically, no," Mr. Porter admitted. "But we would sure appreciate the cooperation of someone in your . . . caliber."

"If you can use someone else, then no."

"Excuse me?"

"You send someone else, a guy in his twenties maybe, if he succeeds he gets to go on with his life and pick up where he left off. You send me, and my life picks up and leaves without me."

"But Alex, your life is on hiatus right now. You don't need it right now. And quite frankly, you can't have it."

"This isn't exactly making me feel any warmer towards this, Mr. Porter," Alex said.

Mr. Porter continued as if Alex had not spoken. "The world needs you right now. That man needs you. We need you."

Alex remained silent.

"But I understand that all matters concerning you are a request, not an order," Mr. Porter sighed.

"If my life can manage to carry on without me," Alex said, "then so can the world."

"That's a no then?"

"That's a no."

"Well Alex," Mr. Porter said, sounding highly disappointed, "We'll see you in two months. Maybe a month and a half if we can manage it."

"Good-bye, Mr. Porter," Alex said. Then he pressed a number on the phone and handed it to Mrs. Peters. She left the room, and Alex went to work on his Nintendo DS.

A/N: Really short, I know it. But oh well. It gets less boring, don't worry.

_The results of a summer's boredome . . ._

Here are some questions that I've thought up based on my reading of the first four books (I only know the highlights of Scorpia):

Why does Ian Rider not like the word "uncle"? Here are my theories. The more likely one is that because maybe Alex's mom had a brother that wasn't such a great guy and Ian Rider didn't want to be associated with _that_ uncle. My other theory (which was probably totally disproved by Eagle Strike) is that Ian Rider was Alex's father, not John Rider. Which would be pretty messed up, unless it wasn't John and Helen that were married. Or maybe the Rider brothers switched identities. I don't know. I've watched too much Alias. lol

Why does Anthony Horowitz keep changing the name of his dog? In the first one it was Bucky. In the second, it was Plucky. Then it was Unlucky. And then it was Plucky again. I'm pretty sure his dog's name is Lucky, because he had a book dedicated to "J, N, C, and L" - J being his wife, N being his son, C being his other sun, and then L, the dog.

What happened to Mrs. Jones' kids?

Where's Blunt's family?

What's up with all the short men? (Sayle was short, Cray was short . . . ) Or is Alex just tall?

You leave me alone with books for two months with nothing to do and that's what you get. An obsessive fan. Same thing happened with Harry Potter. I'm still wondering how Wormtail's gonna pay his debt to Harry.

I'm such a book nerd. I'm going to listen to some metal and rap and stuff to even things out.


	3. A Job Worth Doing

**Chapter Three  
A Job Worth Doing**

Alex was sick and tired of the safe haven. Not only had he had to endure nine hours a day of tutoring and education, from six to twelve and from five to eight, but he had also been ordered to stay fit and healthy.

The meals were sickeningly healthy, when he was brushing his teeth they made sure he did it right, they made him do his laundry twice a week, and for three hours a day, from one to four, he trained with Daven – a Scotsman and one of the other "guests" at the place. He was SAS, but since they seemed to have all the time in the world, and no ranking officers to answer to, Daven wasn't quite so hard on Alex as he should have been.

He did, however, make Alex work. There was this huge underground gym-like place where Dr. Stevens told Alex to train. Bench presses, lifting weights, running . . . and he was the one who operated the Mission Simulator. P.E. for spies. Alex liked him though; he was like . . . a sports coach. Steve Daven was encouraging, but still tough when he had to be.

All in all, the time Alex had remaining at the safe haven passed by quickly because his days were so action packed and tiring. It came as a surprise to him when one day, Daven said,

"I hear you're going home at the end of the week."

"I am?" Alex said, almost letting go of the weight which would have hurt very much if it had landed on his foot.

Daven smiled. "Yup. You're out of here."

Alex found himself smiling. He couldn't help it – he was going to be free soon.

"Well, that's something I haven't seen you do often," Daven said.

"What?"

"Smile," he responded. "You're such a serious kid." Daven sighed. "MI6 should never have involved you in this life."

This was one of the few times that Alex had seen Daven solemn. Daven was the type who looked on the bright side of things – he didn't like for things to get him down. He said it interfered with what he "had to do."

"You're a real talented kid and everything, Alex," Daven said, continuing, "but you shouldn't have been made to do this." He paused. "Did I ever tell you I had a boy?"

"No," Alex said shaking his head.

"Well, my son would be about three or four years younger than you," Daven said. "You're fifteen now, right?"

Alex nodded. "What happened to him?"

"My son?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing. He's fine."

Alex blinked. "You talked about him in the past tense."

"That's because he won't be my son anymore," Daven said with bitterness in his voice Alex hadn't heard before.

"What?"

"They told me I can't go back home anymore," Daven said, without expression. He said it very matter-of-factly. "I'd be endangering myself, and my family if I did. I understand. I follow orders. They know that's what's best, and I know it too."

"So you're not even going to _try_ to get them to change their minds?"

Daven shrugged, and continued, his voice still with no emotion in it. "I already did that. But I don't want to involve my son into this business. He's only eleven. A parent's first and foremost obligation, duty, job, _instinct_ – to protect their child. I'm not going to willingly endanger him. They can ruin my life, but they're not going to keep him from living the life he should – one that doesn't involve looking over his shoulder every step of the way."

Alex couldn't find anything to say.

Daven looked at him. "I don't know how cruel someone would have to be to take away that option from a kid like you. Sure you can handle a man's burden, but why should you have to? They're crazy."

Daven smiled, but the smile was strange. Alex knew him enough now to see there was sadness behind that smile. "But at least you've done things you can be proud of. I believe you saved all the school children in Britain from catching a deadly dose of smallpox, correct? Forget howI know that. Secrecy and all. My point is,this is a job worth doing, even if sometimes the price is too high. If anything is going to get you and me through the day, it's that."

Alex nodded.

Later that night, and late every night that week, he lay in bed awake with that in mind.

But when he saw the steps of his own home in Chelsea, this thought lost some of its intensity and faded a little. By the time Alex faced the gates of his own school, the thought became only a whisper at the back of his mind.

He had his life back.

A/N: I know. Sorta useless chapter, but it sets up some of the things I'm planning for Alex. You can alwaysrevert back here if there's something you don't getabout whyhe does things.Plus, with this chapter here, it opens up some dynamic possibilities for Alex.

Well, review please. I'd like to know what you think.

P.S. Guess where I got the name "Steve Daven"


	4. Animosity

Author's Note: Wow. The idea of an Alex Rider romance. To tell you the truth, I don't think I like it. I didn't even like it much when it was Sabina. Well, I liked it during Skeleton Key but not during Eagle Strike. So if I don't like Alex Rider romances, why is my supporting lead a girl? Couldn't leave the fate of the world in the hands of a boy, now could I? They're just going to be friends. At least until they get older.And there's a reason for that too, other than the requests of chibisuke - something that makes more sense plot-wise. 

Xarilyn said: "The Mr Porter sounds very weird to me. Is he really head of M16 now?"

In reply, I say: "Good question. The situation's complicated. Keep reading!"

Master-Wolfie said: "Is Alex's mom a spy, maybe?"

In reply, I say: "Conspiracy theorists think so lol. The question you need to ask now is whether or not I'm a conspiracy theorist. And if I am, why would Alex's mom matter? . . . or he could have a cousin. Or he could have both. Keep reading!"

Thanks to:

Ignotus-Veritas

MaStEr-WoLfIe

kiwi girl

Miss Lyss

Dartboy

Herod Sayle

Xarilyn

Chibisuke

Grey waters

. . . for reviewing )

**Chapter Four  
****Animosity**

Alex took a deep breath. He let it out and it produced a small cloud in front of him. It was a cold day in February when he entered the schoolyard. It hadn't changed. His fellow students were still talking in their little circles, milling about the courtyard. Mr. Bray was still walking around, getting to know his students as they waited for the morning to begin. Bernie was relining the trash bins. Everything was as it should be.

He looked around and spotted a group of his friends standing in line at the Snack Bar, getting a little morning sustenance. Alex smiled. They never did eat breakfast at home, and they hadn't started to while he had been gone.

Slinking around the edge of the courtyard so he didn't cause a commotion (he had other friends milling about the courtyard but he wanted to surprise this one group first), Alex made his way to the Snack Bar. He silently got in line behind Tom and David. Chris was already done ordering and was waiting for Mrs. Santian to get his donut. Tom was the athlete, David was the scientist, and Chris was the writer. His friends were such polar opposites that Alex had become the natural mediator. Since Alex was good at sports, math and science, and writing, he was the glue that held their group together. Otherwise, each one wouldn't have someone to talk to about his own subject. Wondering how they had gotten along without him, Alex listened to their conversation.

"I can't believe they still won't let us in to see him," Tom was saying. "We're his closest friends, he's in a coma, and we aren't even allowed to visit him."

"It's been over three months since we last saw him," David answered, handing a five-pound note to Mrs. Santian. Mrs. Santian saw Alex and smiled. Alex put a finger to his lips and winked. David continued. "First he's away because he's sick,"

"And then he gets into an accident on his bike on the way to school," Chris said. "That's some really bad luck."

"It's been three months?" Tom asked.

"Yeah," David snickered. "Can you not count? Or did we just celebrate his birthday for absolutely no reason at all?"

Tom ignored him, looking pale. "What if he never wakes up? I don't want to think about it, but that's one scary prospect."

Alex chimed in. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. It was only a bike accident. He could wake up and walk out of the hospital any minute now."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right, Alex," Tom said, "but still – "

"Alex?" Chris and David looked at him.

Tom blinked and turned around. "Alex!"

Alex didn't answer. He was too busy being doubled over laughing.

Alex spent the rest of the day being tackled by the rest of his friends, who almost immediately got reprimanded by teachers ("Calm down boys! Alex just got out of the hospital – you don't want to put him _back_ into a coma, do you?")

Lunch came around and Alex went to the vending machines, eager for some junk food to counteract the healthy stuff that Dr. Stevens force-fed him.

He approached the machines as someone else ahead of him was having trouble with one.

"Stop being mean!" the girl said to the machine in a reprehensive voice. "Be nice! Just one of these days, could you just be nice?" She had an American accent. Must have been a foreign exchange student. "Come on you piece of sh . . . " Alex was about to laugh when the girl quickly corrected herself, ". . . not-so-nice-piece-of-waste-material." The machine didn't appear to care. "You know what? You asked for it." And with that she gave the machine a spin kick and a candy bar fell out. "That should teach you to give me a Mars Bar instead of a Cadbury." She turned and saw Alex.

"What?" she asked brusquely. "You don't get mad when the waitergives you regularinstead of diet?" She smiled a brief apology for being so short.

Alex blinked at her. "I suppose I would. But I wouldn't bust out the karate moves."

"You look familiar," she said, cocking her head to one side, her smile disappearing.

Alex shrugged. "I don't see why I should – I've been gone for three months, and I don't recognize you." He hastily added, "I mean, you must be new because I haven't seen you around before."

She shrugged, throwing her long wavy auburn hair over her shoulder haughtily. "I _am_ new. I just mistook you for that jackass who almost ran me over with his bike this morning."

He frowned at her. Alex realized that he _had_ almost run a girl over on his bike earlier, but he had just shrugged it off thinking he was out of practice. Attempting to make peace, he said, "Was that you? I'm terribly sorry . . . ?" He waited for her name.

The girl gave him a green eyed glare that caused him to shrink just a little. "Well, if that's all, I'm just going to go and enjoy my lunch." She turned on her expensive Italian boot heels and began walking away when David appeared at the end of the hall behind Alex.

"Hey Alex!" he called.

The girl looked over her shoulder, which was a mistake because David saw her too and made to introduce her to Alex.

David trotted up to the two of them. "Hey Mandy, I see you've met Alex."

The girl, Mandy, joined them reluctantly. "I don't think we got around to the formal introductions."

"I can help you with that," David said, smiling. "Alex, this isAmanda Wright. She's a year younger than us, but she's in our maths lesson. She's a smart one. Mandy, this is Alex Rider; a boy who seems to love the hospital so much that he enjoys getting sick at several times during the year and performing dangerous and injury inducing feats that land him in a hospital bed. With luck, you'll actually see him around this year."

"Or with even more luck, not at all," she muttered, smiling sardonically at Alex, who could only respond with a puzzled blink. David didn't seem to hear what she said. Alex frowned at her, wondering what he had done to offend her. Maybe she was just that mad at him for almost hitting her with his bike.

"Well Alex," David said, "the guys want you back at our table. They're dying to know what your life and death experience was like . . . was that a pun? Anyway,_I_ personally would just like to know whether you'll be needing your bike anymore. I mean, I wouldn't be really surprised if you were sick of it.See you later, Mandy!"

She gave David a small smile and a wave, and acknowledged Alex with a side-glance before turning away again.

Once she was out of earshot Alex asked, "What's her problem?"

David blinked. "What do you mean 'what's her problem?' She's got a problem?"

"She indirectly called me a jackass within the first five seconds of our first face-to-face encounter."

"Did she really?" David asked. "Are you sure that was her?"

"No, I was only standing two feet away and there was no one else anywhere around," Alex said, rolling his eyes.

David frowned. "Well, I don't know. Maybe it was just one of those days."

Alex shrugged, thinking he might just begin hating maths if Mandy was really in his class.

As lunch progressed, Alex was able to observe almost all his friends acknowledge Mandy in a pleasant way. Tom waved to her, explaining to Alex that she had physical education with him and was quite good at cricket . . . for a girl, anyway. Dianne and Gail, girls from Alex's science class, talked animatedly to her as did many of Alex's lower classmen friends. Chris had a rather long conversation with her about the story he was writing and the poem she wrote. If all of his friends liked her, she couldn't be all that bad. Maybe she just made a bad first impression.

During the next lesson, they played a game a cricket. Alex was on Tom's team and Mandy was on the opposing force. She bowled Alex out three times.

By the lockers, Tom was a little surprised.

"Oh come on," Alex said. "So I was having an off day. I did just come out of the hospital."

Tom shook his head. "No, it wasn't you. She was just too good. I've never seen her play with such . . . I don't know . . . what's the word?"

"Maliciousness?"

"No," Tom said, holding the door open for Alex, shaking his head.

"Spite? Malignity?"

"No," Tom responded, frowning, as they walked down the hall.

"Malevolence? Animosity? Enmity?"

"What? No!" Tom said, surprised and raising his eyebrows.

"Vindictiveness? Umbrage? Bitterness? Resen-"

"Mate, NO. Conviction. There. What's wrong with you?"

"Me?"

And then they went opposite directions to make it to different classrooms on time.

In maths, the situation was pretty much the same. It felt to Alex as if he were a contestant in a game show and could only keep up with Mandy, not beat her.

Afterwards, David was stunned too, in the same way that Tom had been. "I've never seen her answer questions with such . . . "

"Contempt?"

"Uh . . .no," David said hesitantly.

"Viciousness? Defiance?"

"Er . . . maybe, but I don't think that's quite what . . . "

"Audacity? Insolence? Riv-"

"No. _Satisfaction_. That's a better way of putting it. What's with all the hate?"

"Hey, it's not me!" Alex said.

"You were the one talking," David said.

"Yeah, but only in response to what she -" Alex began but then David had to go because his ride arrived.

Alex made his way to where he bike was locked up. There was Chris, talking to Mandy. Alex groaned. He'd had about enough of this girl.

They laughed at something Chris said.

_Gag me_, Alex thought.

She seemed perfectly friendly. He wished someone could get on his side about her, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be Chris.

The congenial smile on Mandy's face turned into a smirk as Alex approached. Chris looked at the expression with a genuine appearance of puzzlement on his face.

"You be careful on that bike, now," she said in a subtle mocking tone. "You might want to switch to something else. It's quite possible that you are a danger to yourself and others on that thing."

"Don't worry, Mandy," Chris said, giving a confused smile to the both of them, "He's learned his lesson. He'll be more careful. If he doesn't, I'll personally put him back in the hospital. Or get Tom to do it."

Alex grinned at Chris before rewarding Mandy's smirk with a sneer. This further puzzled Chris. "You might want to be careful with your radicals. Who doesn't know the cubed root of 216?"

Chris blinked. "I don't," he said.

"And I'd be careful with your logarithms, Alex," Mandy replied. "Especially with those exponents. Well, it takes some people longer to learn than others. Trigonometry isn't for everybody, you know. See you boys around." She turned and left.

Alex could feel his cheeks getting hot, but he let it go.

"That was . . . strange," Chris said. For a guy with such incredible eloquence, he seemed to run out of words quite quickly.

Alex shrugged.

"Well," Chris said, unchaining his bike, "at least it's _mutual _animosity."

"Hey, I couldn't take all that lying down, now could I?"

"Yes," Chris said, "You could. It's quite physically possible."

"Yeah, but after two hours in a row of that I got tired, so sue me."

It was Chris's turn to shrug. "Well, see you tomorrow Alex. Don't overdo it, okay? We want you around for a while more."

Alex smiled. "I'll try."

**Author's Note**: It is a little retarded, but I didn't know how else to get the message across that she hates him.

Questions you should be asking:

Why doesMandy hate Alex?

Why does Mandy even matter?


	5. Mr Porter's Office

A/N: This is pretty much just tying up loose ends before we get to the real storyline, but it does have some important information in it, so read and review please! 

To my reviewers:

**_Magic Noden_**: Haha, well the answers to those questions will be answered later in the story, but you should see some clues at the end of the next chapter so keep reading!

**_Xarilyn_**: Lol, no Mandy's not out of her mind. But she does have some issues and some of those issues are with Alex. Keep reading to find out what!

**_Cool Mauraders_**: Look, I'm updating! Aren't you proud of me? Lol, next update should be worth reading.

**_Liam O'Mallon_**: I will answer those questions … eventually. So keep reading please!

**_Sealednectar_**: I didn't really describe Mandy because I wanted you guys to use your imaginations. I did say, though, that she had reddish blonde hair. I may work in some more details, though. Why does Mandy hate Alex? That comes later. Why does she even matter? That comes up next chapter … or sooner if you can guess it.

**_Dreamgirl101_**: Wow. How did you get to that conclusion? I reread the chapter, and I don't get it. Where did I hint that Alex was going to be evil? Maybe from his dialogue … but you've got to understand that he's just mad. If someone at school just randomly was mean to you, you'd be pretty pissed too. As to the romance thing, I've already cleared that up. I really don't want to give _too_ much away, but I guess if it bugs people that much, I'll say that Mandy and Alex don't end up together in this story because it just wouldn't fit. Again, Mandy has certain issues with Alex that she's not ready to forgive enough to fall in love with the boy.You'll see why if you keep reading. Oh, and Mandy has absolutely nothing to do with Scorpia. We're on a whole new evil organization now .

THANK YOU ALL!

**Chapter Five  
Mr. Porter's Office**

Alex finished his homework so quickly that it surprised him. He really did get ahead in his work. Mrs. Peters and Dr. Evens were right. At the end of the week, Mr. Bray approached Alex congratulating him on his recovery.

"Really," Mr. Bray said, "I'm proud of you, Alex! I don't know how you did it; frankly, I don't care. It seems you not only have improved in your studies, but you've also gotten so far ahead that you could take your GCSE's right now, and I'd bet quite a lot that you'd pass them just fine. Not that I'm supposed to be encouraging gambling, that is."

What made things even better was that Alex now had someone to talk to about his life. Tom, his best friend, now knew that Alex was a spy. Of course, at the first opportunity, Tom asked Alex all sorts of questions. Since Jack hadn't known the real reason Alex had gone to Venice and had assumed that the MI6 had just taken Alex away and got him knocked into a coma, they couldn't discuss this in front of anyone – not even her.

"So what happened?" Tom asked. "Weren't you home free? You had brought a major crime organization down to its knees. In fact, it seems that you took them out for good. Why did you have to stay in hiding all that time?"

Alex sighed. "Because just as I was leaving the MI6 building, I got shot."

"Holy . . . " was Tom's response.

"Yeah," Alex said. "They found out it was some remnant of Scorpia and they got all paranoid. MI6 decided to protect me by stowing me away in some hospital out in the middle of nowhere. I recovered fairly quickly, considering the wound was nearly fatal, but they decided to keep me overtime just to be safe."

"And they told all of us that you got hit by a car," Tom said. "So they don't know that I know?"

"No," Alex said. "Remember, I signed a Secrets Act. I wasn't even supposed to tell you."

"So are they going to leave you alone now, Alex?" Tom asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Was that your last mission, or are they going to make you go on more?" Tom explained. "I think it's cool and everything, how you saved the world, but any more of that . . . will you leave your money to me if you die?"

"Nice, Tom," Alex said.

"Look, I'm just saying. If they get you killed, I swear to God I'm going to become a lawyer and make this sort of bollocks illegal when I grow up."

"Seriously?"

"Honest. I'm doing a lot better at History and English nowadays. Just ask Chris."

Alex smiled. "Brilliant. Does that mean I'll be able to beat you at hurdles now?"

"You wish."

All in all, Alex was quite happy with the way life was going.

There was, however, one dark bit: the way everyone seemed to be so impressed with Mandy Wright.

Whenever he encountered her in school (which was often because she was friends with all of his friends), he tensed up, readying himself for a fight, which usually came and lasted for at least three insults apiece.

Alex had now somewhat resigned to her hating him: he learned to return that hate. He felt that she was trying too hard to make everyone like her. In the back of his mind, Alex knew this wasn't true. Truthfully, Alex would have liked to be her friend – it would make lunchtime a lot more comfortable without having to move and talk to someone else whenever Mandy came near. But the fact remained that after a short time, Alex became very tired of having to see the back of Mandy's strawberry-blonde hair during maths.

It was all fine and dandy whenever she wasn't around, and when no one was talking about her. It was like old times, really. After having no one his age to talk to for months, Alex was really glad to be able to laugh and joke around with his friends.

But whenever that girl came up. It just made Alex mad. Could no one but him see her catty side?

Alex had been talking to Tom, Chris, and David about a new video game and David happened to mention that Mandy had it, but was hopeless with learning how to play it.

"Damn, how are you friends with that – " Alex began.

"Oh," David said. "I forgot that you don't like her. You can't really blame me though: you're the only person I know who doesn't."

"Because she's a – "

"Look," Tom said, interrupting him, "why don't you try and get to know her like a normal person? You'll realize she's not as bad as you think."

Alex sighed. "See, here's the thing: by first impression, no I didn't think she was the spawn of evil. But in the next ten seconds, I came to realize that she was a manipulative – "

"Are you absolutely certain?" Chris asked. Then he thought a moment. "Well, I suppose. She does seem oddly . . . threatening when you're around."

"See?"

"But she's okay when you're not there," David said, trying to be positive.

"EXACTLY!" Alex cried, exasperated. "And I don't understand it! What the bloody hell did I ever do to her?"

"I heard you almost ran her over with your bike once," Chris said.

"But that's not really enough to condemn him to that sort of ill will, now is it?" David added.

"Right," Alex said, nodding. "And she only treats _me_ this way. Not even to people whom we _know_ are ignorant bastards."

"Untrue," Tom said. "She treats them pretty coldly."

"Not to the same negative Celsius degree that she treats me, okay," Alex said. "It's 10 below the point at which water freezes, okay?"

"I don't get it either, Alex," Chris sighed. "I tried talking to her about it – "

"I didn't need you to do that! That's just proving to her that I'm bothered by it!" Alex interrupted.

"But she didn't seem willing to give you a chance," Chris continued, ignoring Alex's outburst. "I wonder why. Your uncle didn't fire her dad at the bank, did he?"

"I doubt very much that her dad knew Ian Rider," Alex said.

Tom nodded.

"Well, I guess this can get filed under the unsolved mystery compartment in my brain," Chris said, "because I'm tired of having this discussion over and over and over . . . "

"And over and over," David continued.

"And over again," Tom finished.

Alex stared at them. "You guys are mental, but whatever. I'm done talking about her too."

Though, oddly enough, a certain word that rhymes with "witch" escaped Alex's mouth at the most random moments, but each of his friends knew exactly who Alex was thinking about.

Alex had been settled at school for a few weeks when he got the call.

The phone rang at around four thirty in the afternoon. Jack answered it and, with her hand covering the mouthpiece, she said, "Alex, it's for you. A Mr. Porter – is he a teacher of yours?"

"Sure," Alex said, walking over to the phone. "Hello?" he said into it.

"Hello, young man," came Mr. Porter's voice in singsong. "And how are you doing this fine afternoon?"

"Mr. Porter," Alex said.

"Yes?"

"It's snowing."

"Right you are, Alex," Mr. Porter said. "It _is_ snowing in London, isn't it? Well, I happen to be somewhere that's sunny. I will be back in the snow in about ten hours, though, if that makes you feel any better."

Alex had no response.

Mr. Porter cleared his throat and continued in a more serious tone. "Which brings me to my point: I'll be in London the day after tomorrow. Fancy a chat?"

"Excuse me?"

"I need to talk to you," Mr. Porter said.

_Oh no_, Alex thought. "What about?"

"If I told you that," Mr. Porter said, "I'd have to kill you."

Alex grunted.

"The young have no sense of humor nowadays," Mr. Porter said. "Now we can't have you just walk into the bank: we may not know for certain who's watching. However, we have a secondary location where you can go and from there you will be carefully concealed and escorted to MI6 headquarters. You will be informed of that location somewhere between today and our meeting time."

"What if I don't want to go?"

"Then we'll make you," Mr. Porter said. The way he said it sent shivers up Alex's spine. Porter said it so matter-of-factly . . . Alex had a feeling that he would very well make good his threat. In spite of this, Alex retorted just to show that he wasn't intimidated.

"Oh yeah? How?"

Mr. Porter continued, in the same flat voice, "Something that involves the police coming to your school and a video tape of someone who looks very much like you committing armed robbery."

Alex swallowed. So they were going to make him into a felon? Well, at least they weren't threatening to deport Jack. "Fine. What time?"

"Four," Mr. Porter said. There was a click and the line went dead.

_Brilliant_, Alex thought.

Alex had taken a sort of underground tunnel which was located behind a door in the Victoria tube station that led straight into the MI6 offices of the Royal & General bank. All he had to do was take a retinal scan, a fingerprint check, and punch in the code (which was 007) and he could get into the building pretty invisibly to anyone on the outside who was watching.

But the employees of the so-called bank were watching him from moniters on the inside. Among those who watched Alex enter was Mr. Porter.

His office was a few floors higher than where Alex was used to going. Alex made the mistake of going to Alan Blunt's office and he found it closed.

"Mr. Rider?" a woman in her mid-twenties who looked like an aid of some sort spoke behind Alex.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Porter's office is on the 19th floor," the woman said.

"Oh, right," Alex said. He turned for the elevator and then he remembered … his uncle's office.

It had been a while since Alex had actually looked at the office door. He wondered who worked there now and if they had known Alex's uncle. Alex wondered what had happened to his dead uncle's personal belongings, like the picture frames and the pens. He opened the door and this time, it wasn't locked.

Alex looked around the empty room. He didn't know why he was disappointed, but he was. Sighing, he wondered what his life would be like if his parents hadn't died. Perhaps if traffic to and at Heathrow had been worse, he'd still have his parents. What stroke of luck, or misfortune, had happened to make it possible for Alex to be alive today? Why hadn't Julia Rothman come after Alex after she murdered his parents? Was it because of Ian Rider? Why hadn't Ian Rider ever gotten married? Did he not want to follow in his brother's footsteps?

Eyes slightly moist, Alex resigned himself to never knowing the full story. He walked briskly over to the life and pressed 19.

The elevator dinged dully as Alex stepped out. A man in his late twenties showed Alex to Porter's office and informed him that Porter would arrive shortly. In about five minutes Alex heard the door shut quietly behind him.

"So, Mr. Rider," Porter said tiredly, "For your mission … "

"I'm not doing it," Alex said. "But thank you for the thought. Can I go now?"

"No, you may not go," Porter said. "What makes you think you can refuse this mission? I'm afraid, Alex, that this time you don't have a choice in the matter."

"I'm not going," Alex repeated.

Porter ignored him. Instead he hit an intercom button and said, "Maureen, is she in yet?"

"Yes," a cold female voice came.

"Good," Porter responded. "Send her in."

"I'm not going on this mission," Alex repeated.

The door opened but Alex didn't care.

"You're to be briefed on the situation, Rider," Porter said. "Don't force me to _make_ you listen."

"Porter – ," Alex began.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Porter," said a familiar voice in a tired tone.

Alex turned brusquely to see who had interrupted him and his jaw dropped.

A/N: Guess who just walked onto the scene? Lol, not that that'll be a challenge. This was a sort of useless chapter. I wrote it a long time ago when I was having writer's block. The next one should be **so** much better, because I've had that one planned out for forever so keep reading! And don't forget to review!


	6. A New Mission

Previously on _Prodigy_: 

"_You're to be briefed on the situation, Rider," Porter said. "Don't force me to make you listen."_

"_Porter – ," Alex began._

"_Good afternoon, Mr. Porter," said a familiar voice in a tired tone._

_Alex turned brusquely to see who had interrupted him and his jaw dropped._

**Chapter Six**  
**A New Mission**

"Hello there, Rider," Mandy said. Her tone was playful as opposed to scathing as she said this. She looked different out of her Brookland uniform, although she was still dressed rather formally. She was wearing a black blazer over a lavender button up blouse and a matching black skirt. On her feet were sensible shoes and her hair was pulled up in a loose bun. She looked like a miniature secretary. "You know, it isn't very polite to stare," she said to Alex as he took this all in.

Alex closed his mouth, but still gazed at Mandy in bewilderment.

Mandy turned to Porter. "Has he been briefed yet?"

"I was hoping you could do that, as I am only aware of the general situation. You know all the particulars."

"Consider it done."

"Now I have some business I need to attend to. I trust that you will do a thorough job. Byrne does speak so highly of you. I trust his judgment, even if he's a bloody yank."

"How nice," Mandy replied with pleasant sarcasm. Porter nodded and left, and Mandy sat behind his desk.

There was an awkward silence as Mandy gazed at Alex expectantly. What was he supposed to say? Maybe he was supposed to say something witty like how much she looked like a strict little schoolteacher, but at the moment, he couldn't. Alex felt much too disoriented. "What – how – did – huh?" he stuttered incoherently.

"I suppose that's code for why am I here?" Mandy said calmly.

Alex said nothing. He did glare, however.

Sighing, the girl continued. "Well, I guess we'll have to start at the beginning of that one. Do you recall, during the early days of your stay at the safe haven hospital in Scotland, that you were asked to accept a mission concerning a rather gifted engineer designing a sensitive mechanism and a plot to kidnap and hold hostage his child?"

Alex nodded.

"That's where my career as a spy began," Mandy said. "And yes, I am a spy. Be patient, as this does pertain to you as well.

"Silver Crown, the organization that took the engineer Mr. Oliver Richardson, moved their operation from their United Kingdom roots to U.S. ground when they found out that the British MI6 was onto them. The British didn't catch on to this move until a month or so later, but there were others watching the moves of the Silver Crown. The CIA decided to follow the British plan (when, of course, the CIA and MI6 finally got their communications across) and sent in a kid."

Alex scoffed.

"Yes?" Mandy asked, a hint of the old familiar maliciousness in her voice.

"Let me guess," Alex said. "That kid was you?"

"No," Mandy said patiently. "They sent in, oddly enough, another 14 year old boy. Apparently, they were experimenting with the idea of training a kid spy; after Byrne saw what success _you_ had here for England. Unfortunately, an unknown informant compromised him and it was necessary that he be extracted, before he had found out exactly what was going on. The plan was to get both Banks and Richardson out.

"I was part of the extraction team solely because I was a native to the town and knew my way around the compound. My father worked there before he disappeared four months ago."

Alex thought over this. "What happened to Richardson and that kid?"

"Banks is in his hometown awaiting further orders," Mandy said. She took a deep breath before saying, "Richardson was shot as he was getting into the helicopter. He died almost immediately."

"Obviously you didn't do your job correctly," Alex said, and immediately regretted it. Her expression didn't change much; she didn't turn pale, and she didn't raise her voice. But Alex saw subtle changes in her demeanor, like how her right hand clenched slowly into a fist, and her left hand, which had been twirling a pen idly as she told her story, clamped its fingers around the pen, which then became ominously still. For a moment, Alex was sure she was going to stab him with that pen. She did not seem angry, yet, in everything that she did not do, she emanated fury.

_And why shouldn't she be angry?_ Alex thought to himself. _I just told her it was her fault that Richardson was killed._

Still, Alex didn't apologize. Instead he said, "Do you know why Richardson was abducted?"

Unclenching her fist slowly, Mandy said, "Our preliminary investigation led us to believe that the Silver Crown was after a GPS guided mechanism that would allow one to control any form of transportation from a computer, which was the project that Richardson was working on at the time of his abduction. Banks, the CIA agent, informed us that if the Silver Crown wanted to control transportation, than there would be no reason for them to spend so much time and money on neurology. His mission was compromised before he was able to gather further information."

"So," Alex said, "Richardson was also a specialist on the brain?"

"Among other things," Mandy said primly. "Richardson was designing a sort of machine for the CIA some 10 years ago that involved the study of the brain. The project was abandoned when it neared completeion. The CIA refuses to disclose further details to MI6. Obviously, it must have been something shady. Even too much for its own agents, like Banks and myself, to have their delicate ears exposed to."

"Wait, the CIA?" Alex asked. "I thought Richardson was British."

"He was," Mandy said, a hint of sadness in her voice for some reason. "He moved to America at the age of ten, became a citizen, and married an American neurologist when he was getting his career started in scientific engineering about 20 years ago. The CIA recruited his wife and shortly after Richardson became an NSA agent. A few years after that they began the project. Mrs. Richardson disappeared at about the same time the CIA pulled the plug on the machine, no pun intended. Shortly after, Richardson shipped himself off to Britain."

"So I'd be dealing with people who would be happy to mess with my brain?" Alex said.

"Potentially, yes," Mandy said.

"And who caused you to move across the second largest ocean in the world to gain a new identity?"

"It wasn't as big a move as you make it out to be," Mandy said coldly. "It is a small world."

Ignoring her, Alex said, "Well, now, more than ever, I'm out."

"Excuse me?" Mandy asked, her voice sounding dangerously like it could turn into a growl any given second.

Alex stood his ground. "I am not putting myself in danger of having to start a new life," he said. "Sorry, but mine's screwed up enough as it is. So thanks, but no thanks."

Mandy stood and moved swiftly to block his way.

"Let me go," Alex said. "We both would rather spend the least amount of time possible in each other's company, so let me pass." Alex tried to go around her, but she was watchful to his every move and amazingly quick. "Let me go!" he repeated.

"No," Mandy said calmly.

"Why not?"

"You have to do this mission," Mandy said. "You _will_ do this mission."

"And why should I?" Alex found himself yelling. "I never asked for this! Why me? Why, in God's name, did I ever have to be mixed up in this business? Because of my uncle? My father? I never wanted to be a spy! Why should it be me?"

"Why should it be anyone, Alex?" Mandy yelled back. "Don't ask me why we have to do this, because you already know. It's our duty to our countries, our obligation to the world. This is our job."

"Well it shouldn't be!" Alex shouted.

"No, it shouldn't!" Mandy yelled, but stopped short. It seemed like she wanted to continue, but had just realized what she had just said.

They both became quiet. Alex was breathing heavily, but Mandy was trembling.

"Somebody has to do this job," Mandy said quietly.

"Yeah, but why us?" Alex said, calmer than he had been.

Mandy shrugged. "Because we _can_. There are people out there whose lives depend on us. Pressure, I know," she said when she saw the look on Alex's face. "Pressure we don't need. But could you honestly live with yourself if you did nothing? If you did nothing, and you knew that you could have? You were thrown into this world of covert actions and evil plots to take over the world. I know that, I understand how you feel, but _deal with it_. One of these days, you'll realize that the things you want aren't as important as what they are asking you to fight for."

Anger bubbled up once more and Alex found himself indignant. "My life isn't important? Does my own happiness not matter? Yes! I know that's selfish of me – but I don't want to spend my life living for other people. I can't do it! It hurts too much, I suffer too much, and I don't even get credit for anything I do. I don't get any 'thank you's' or even medals – I don't get anything but a report that says I saved the world. Big deal. I am still responsible for the deaths of I don't know how many people – even if they were criminals. I miss out on sections of my life that I am never going to get back. Then they call me out to do it again, in appreciation for what I've done before. If they wanted to thank me they would leave me alone. But they don't. I'm having serious doubts as to if they ever will. I lose every way."

Mandy shook her head. "Of course being a spy is a thankless job. But many other careers are the same. As for a reward, you can take satisfaction in knowing that people are still alive because of you. You can find solace in compassion for the world. You can take comfort in knowing that you did the right thing.

"You say you lose every way, but that's because you choose to lose. You choose not to see all the ways in which you've won the game of life. In all your adventures, you've always done the right thing. Why is that? It's because you are a good person and that deep down, you believe in the cause that you fight for – even if you say that it is unwillingly. You believe in the potential of the world to be good, otherwise you wouldn't try so hard and succeed so much.

"Believe it or not Alex, you like what you do. You may not like why you do it, according to you – blackmail, or what it does to your life, but doing the right thing and giving into whatever altruism you possess . . . you like it. All of your anger isn't directed at MI6 for what they've done to your life. You're angry with yourself because you care and because it's ultimately _you_ who makes the choice to decide your destiny. And you're angry that your destiny seems to be living for other people, and fighting unseen battles of glory.

"Don't give me crap about wanting your life back the way it was. You know very well that even if you could, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself because of the possibility that someone somewhere needed for you to be there. You've got quite the hero complex, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, I've read your file," Mandy said. "You beat up three boys who were older than you and in a whole different weight class just to protect a stranger, or a boy who was a stranger then. You dump a couple of drug dealers in the middle of a police station _building_ because they were dealing to some of your friends. You spend weeks chasing after Damian Cray because he tried to kill Sabina Pleasure's father. You're a natural hero. Don't tell me you'd like to give that part of yourself up."

Alex couldn't think of a reply. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He may feel unwilling to risk his life because MI6 asked him to, but he didn't regret anything he accomplished while his life was in danger. He _did_ have a choice. Maybe it wasn't whether or not he went on these impossibly dangerous ventures, but he could choose how he felt about them. His bitterness and anger were justified, but he took no enjoyment in feeling that way. Perhaps … perhaps …

Suddenly Alex remembered something someone had said to him. "_A job worth doing_." It was a job worth doing. But did he have any courage left to do it? Alex remained quiet, stalling for time. He wasn't actually going to accept this girl's offer? Was he?

"So are you in or out?" Mandy asked.

Alex took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. After another moment or so of silence, he looked her in the eyes and said, "I'm in."

"Good," Mandy said. "The investigation is going to take place in a city in the states. You're to be the British agent on the job, because MI6 didn't trust the CIA to get the job done alone after … after our failure to retrieve useful information.

"I understand you're a black belt in karate?" Mandy said.

"Yes, I am."

"That's fortunate because you're registered as a fighter," Mandy said.

"Excuse me?"

"You're enrolled in a school funded by the Silver Crown, which is nearby the facility that we believe is where they are finishing up what Richardson started. The school is one made for young prodigies, all of them orphans. The CIA has reason to believe that there's more to the training of these kids than just guitar playing and impressionist painting."

"How do they figure?"

"Who knows?" Mandy said. "Brainwashing. Messing with memories. Psychiatric means of torture. Manipulation of the brain. It could be anything – they did have Richardson for three months (he went missing for a month before MI6 bothered to ask you whether or not you wanted to go get him), and three months for Richardson was plenty of time for him to design something new. And with the threat that his child was in Silver Crown custody would have spurred him to greater heights."

"Okay," Alex said, nodding. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I'll be there."

After Alex left the building to inform Jack of his departure the next morning, Porter reentered his office to find Mandy scowling.

Porter saw the look on her face as she came in and smiled sadly. "For a moment there, I actually thought you had some sympathy for the boy." She gave him the evil eye but he was unfazed. "That's too bad, since you're going to have to play nice for at least another week. But I'm wondering; how can you have given such an impassioned speech without meaning just a little of it?"

She smiled sarcastically. "I guess I'm just a wonderful actress. What's this bull about playing nice?"

Porter raised an eyebrow at her language, but he shrugged it off. He understood the reasons for the attitude. "Would you like him asking me questions about why you're being hostile towards him? Would you like him to request to go on this mission alone? I also notice you didn't tell him that you were going with him to California."

Mandy crossed her arms. "First of all, you can't answer his questions for confidentiality purposes."

"You're not in America anymore, Meg. I have all authority on that area. It is only by my good grace that Alex doesn't already know."

"Whatever," Mandy shrugged indifferently. "Secondly, I would actually like for him to go on this mission alone. If he's so good that he _has_ to come with me, he could very well do it himself."

Porter raised both his eyebrows at this. "I'm sorry," he said with mock astonishment. "I was under the impression that you _personally_ wanted justice. I guess I was wrong. And if I was wrong about that, I suppose I was wrong about your desire to seek _complete_ justice. I thought you wanted the job done, and the job done right. I thought you wanted to finish what was started. Was I wrong?"

Mandy was silent.

She sighed. "No, you weren't wrong," she said.

Porter felt a little relieved. It was bad enough he had to send kids at all to do this. They weren't chaperoned, but at least they weren't all alone. They had each other. What was better, they hated each other. Porter could barely believe it himself, but in this day and age, that was a definite positive.

"But I'm not going to pretend to be nice," Mandy continued. "I won't compromise the mission, but to force me to be pleasant with Alex Rider would just be cruel and unusual punishment. You know that."

Porter felt his mouth go dry. He nodded curtly.

Mandy was about to leave when he said, "I'm sorry you had to be involved at all."

She turned to face him and shrugged. "It's not your fault. At least, not most of it."

"Fortunately for me," Porter said with a small smile.

"Yes, _very_ fortunate," Mandy said, grinning back.

A/N: Oooh, intrigue! Haha. So, how did you like their conversation? Did it give you a little more insight into just who Mandy is? Oh yeah, do you get now why Mandy mattered? Don't worry – she's not the useless character she seems in this chapter. She's vital to the plot in more ways than one. And pay close attention to that last scene between Mandy and Porter. That whole thing about complete justice ties into the mission, as well as her loathing for Alex. So here is another set of questions you should be asking:

How/why did Mandy's father disappear?

Who are the kids in this school? Why are they there?

Who is this "Banks" character and what order is he waiting for?

Where is Richardson's real child?

Why should being nice to Alex be cruel and unusual punishment for Mandy?

Is Mandy being completely honest with Alex?

Who is the fourth Rider? This was hinted at in the first chapter

Oh, and Banks is actually Agent Cody Banks. I only put that in because I knew about the movie Agent Cody Banks before I knew about the Alex Rider books. That's the trouble about living in America. The Alex Rider books showed up in my local Border's about a year and a half after the _second_ Agent Cody Banks movie came out, so yeah, kind of retarded. My Cody Banks, however, isn't the exact character from the movies, though. He does kind of look like Frankie Muniz, but perhaps taller. My Cody Banks has a whole different back-story. I just liked the name, so I used it.


End file.
